


Adveniente Caritate

by badskippy



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Advent Prompt, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, M/M, Tolkien Advent Prompt, more to come - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-02 19:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16792876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badskippy/pseuds/badskippy
Summary: It was just the Christmas Holiday ... no big deal.  Sure there were plans and hopes but ... nothing out of the ordinary.  However, the holiday had much promise of things to come.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aquileaofthelonelymountain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquileaofthelonelymountain/gifts), [Nerdee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerdee/gifts), [Neeka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neeka/gifts), [whyisitclever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyisitclever/gifts).



> Here is the link to the original prompt. [Arda Advent Prompt](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/arda_advent_2018/profile)
> 
> This is suppose to be a prompt for each day, but i have decided, for my fic, to use each day as a prompt for each chapter and make one long story ... i hope you all like!

* * *

Dwalin closed the doors to the old barn then turned to walk back to the house with Thorin. They’d worked hard all day and there was still a long way to go, but at least the work had started and with Thorin’s help, Dwalin would have the surprise finished by Christmas Eve. 

He hoped anyway.

Dwalin also hoped Thorin hadn’t changed his mind about tonight.

“Soooo,” Dwalin asked slowly, “you’re going, right?”

Thorin sighed. “Yeah … I guess.”

“Well, don’t sound so excited,” Dwalin said dryly.

Thorin shrugged. “Do I really _need_ to go?”

“Come on. You’ll have … fun … when we get there.”

“If you say so.”

“Fine. If you don’t want to go, then don’t.”

“I didn’t say I _didn’t_ want to go!”

“It was heavily implied.”

“I just …” Thorin sighed again. “You know how I feel about singing in public.”

“It’s just practice!” Dwalin said with a huff.

“But we will eventually be out singing.”

“It’s for fun!” Dwalin rolled his eyes. “And besides, it’s—”

“It’s a great way for you to spend time with Ori,” Thorin said with a smirk.

“That’s not why I’m doing it!”

“Bullshit.”

Dwalin chewed the inside cheek and then gave in. “Fine. I’ll get to spend time with Ori! Happy?!”

Thorin laughed. “You’re _only_ _doing this_ for Ori and you know it!”

Dwalin didn’t reply; it was true.

Thorin shook his head. “I’ll be there.”

Dwalin breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“Even though I know you only want me there so that Ori’s brothers don’t realize that you are only there for their little brother.”

Dwalin nodded. “They’ll skin me alive when they find out.”

“Ori can handle them,” Thorin said, seriously.

Dwalin nodded again. Ori could be right scary when pushed. But that didn’t mean … “What if Ori doesn’t feel the same way?”

Thorin laughed. “Yeah right! You aren’t on the outside, looking at the two of you, looking at each other with calf eyes!”

They walked back towards Dwalin’s home, the silence between them until they got right outside the door.

“So … you’re going?”

“Yeah. I’m going.”

“I’ll pick you up about six-thirty then.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“Right. See ya then.”

“See ya.”

Dwalin nodded and went inside while Thorin walked on to his car. He was never under any delusion as to why Dwalin really wanted him to go along tonight. And it wasn’t like he was going to refuse. Thorin just didn’t see what the big deal was. Everyone knew how Dwalin and Ori felt, even Dori and Nori, though Thorin suspected that both were in deep denial to themselves. But Thorin figured it would be boring and dull. 

It wasn’t like he was going to be getting any romance out of it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Those interested ...
> 
> Dwalin and Thorin, as are most of the company, are 23 ... Ori and Bilbo and Dis are 21 ... Dori and Balin and Oin are 29


	2. Caroling

* * *

Balin’s idea was simple; get a group together, practice a few carols, and then, on Christmas Eve, go around and spread some holiday cheer. And not just anywhere, but to a few sections of town where a great number of political refugees and asylum seekers have found homes and welcome them. Of course, sadly, a few from the church choir had ‘commitments’ and ‘couldn’t possibly participate’, so Balin had reached out to his brother and friends and used gentle ‘persuasion.’

In other words, he used guilt.

Dwalin almost told Balin to stuff it but then Balin casually mentioned that young Ori Ryson was going to be there. Balin always did know where Dwalin’s underbelly was.

Dwalin said yes.

\-----ooooo-----

Dwalin blew the horn for the third time.

Thorin flung open the front door, gave Dwalin a two-finger salute, shut the door, pulling on his coat and hat as he hurried down the walk. 

Dwalin rolled down the window and shouted, “It’s six-thirty- _seven_! We’re late!”

“What the hell is your problem?!” Thorin said, getting in Dwalin’s car rolling the window back up; it was effing freezing outside! “It’s _only_ six-thirty-seven and I’d like to point out, you knob-head, that _you’re_ the one that’s late!”

“I think Mum knows,” Dwalin said as he pulled away from the kurb.

“Knows what?” Thorin said, buckling his seatbelt.

“About Ori!”

Thorin shrugged. “Who doesn’t?”

“Dori and Nori!”

“I’m sure they know. They have to.”

“Not to mention, Ori hasn’t a clue!” 

Thorin snickered. “Then he is the only one!”

“Whatever,” Dwalin said before turning a furious look at Thorin. “And don’t you go blabbing!”

Thorin shook his head but didn’t say anything. 

All Saint’s Parish Church was only a few minutes ride away and Dwalin made good time. Judging from the cars in the park, they might be the only ones late. However, Thorin also noticed a certain faded, Salmon pink 1972 Austin 1300 Mk III missing from among the cars there; Ori was a no-show.

“I don’t see his car,” Thorin pointed out quietly.

“I know, I know,” Dwalin grumbled.

“Maybe he’s not coming after all,” Thorin said.

“Maybe he’s just late!”

“Maybe.”

Dwalin growled under his breath and he whipped into a spot and shut the engine off. 

“You better get in a better mood,” Thorin said, smirking. “Or Ori will be upset when he gets here.”

“If he gets here,” Dwalin said, giving into his doubts.

“Like you said …” Thorin undid his seatbelt and opened the door. “Maybe he’s late.”

They quickly got out and entered the church. Gloin was there, as was his brother Oin. Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur showed up too. Dori was there, of course, but Nori was not as he had plans that he couldn’t break; no one asked. There were a few other people, from the church choir, but Thorin didn’t know them and they huddled together, giving the ‘outsiders’ thinly veiled looks of condescension.

“Where’s Balin?” Dwalin said, walking up to the choir group.

“ _Vicar_ Fundinson,” one of the choir singers corrected with a rather snotty air, “went to call a few people that aren’t here.”

Dwalin was not impressed. “Well, _my brother_ … will want to know I’m here.”

“He does,” Vicar Balin Fundinson said, coming up behind Dwalin, who immediately turned and gave his smaller, older brother a tight hug. “I’m glad you came.”

“Mum wants you home for Saturday dinner,” Dwalin said as he pulled away.

Balin nodded. “I know. And I will be there.” He leaned closer to whisper, “Will young Ori be invited?”

Dwalin blanched, whispering, “Will you stop?!”

Balin gave Dwalin a knowing look. “You really just need to tell him.”

“We are only … friends. That’s it.”

“You shouldn’t lie in the Lord’s house.”

Dwalin rolled his eyes. “He’s not even here, so …”

As if on cue, the side doors swung open and Ori hurried in with another young man beside him. “I’m sorry we’re late, Vicar!” 

Balin laughed. “Better late than never!”

The first thing they did was test all the new comers and find out where they belonged. No surprise to anyone, both Dwalin and Thorin were Basses, along with Dori. Bofur, Bifur, Gloin, and Oin were sort as Baritones, while Ori, Bombur and Ori’s friend from Uni, Bilbo Baggins, were Tenors. That left the two Gentlemen, one a Baritone and the other a Tenor, and the three ladies, one Alto, and the last two Sopranos, to round out the group.

“I would have loved to see more ladies,” Balin said. “But we will have to make do with what God had given us.”

“We could have waited,” one of the choir women, a Missus Jameson, said. “I’m sure more of the choir could be persuaded.” She and one of the other ladies, her daughter, as a matter of fact, gave the group of young men dark looks.

“Yes, but,” Balin said pointedly. “Of the seventeen members of the choir, all but you five declined to participate.” Balin cleared his voice. “They all seem too busy to assist.”

“Why not just leave it at us five,” said one of the choir men, not truly bothering to hide his contempt. “Surely we don’t need a … crowd … to sing.”

Before Balin could answer though, Thorin spoke up.

“Why should it be just the church choir?!” Thorin had had enough of the choir’s attitude. “Isn’t the whole point to welcome those in need?!”

“Well said!” Everyone turned and saw that Ori’s friend, Bilbo, had spoken up. “These people have been through wars and starvation and dangerous journeys and they need to see that the community accepts them, not just the church!”

Oddly, rather than shutting the choir down, Missus Jameson’s daughter thought she’d get snarky back with Bilbo. Only it didn’t go the way she thought and within five minutes, the two sides were having to pull the two of them apart.

“Everyone!” Balin said, bringing the whole situation to silence. “Please! Let us remember where we are and why we are here! It’s the Christmas season. Peace on Earth and Goodwill towards our fellow men!”

“JUST THE MEN?”

Once again, they all turned and saw Thorin’s sister, Dis, and four of her friends march boldly into the church. 

“Dis!” Balin cried with a smile. “How lovely to see you!”

“Hey, Vicky!” Dis said, giving Balin a wink and a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Stop calling me that!” Balin said with a laugh. “What brings you here, my dear?”

“Thorin texted me a bit ago,” Dis said. “And said you needed some girls who could sing.” She gestured to her friends. “I hope you don’t mind I brought my gang with me.”

“The more the merrier!” Balin said.

The choir ladies did not seem as merry though. However, Dis and her friends stared them down and the ladies gave in quickly. After sorting the new comers, who were all excellent singers, they got down to business.

Balin wanted to stick to traditional Christmas music, but not too many. A bit of back and forth ensued, but in the end, five carols were decided on; God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, Joy To The World, Coventry Carol, Coral Of Bells, and, at Bilbo’s suggestion, In Praise Of Christmas. It took a half the first night but they all settled into a cohesive group. The choir members reluctantly gave into the fact that many, if not all, the new comers had excellent voices and that they also took the singing seriously. By the end of the night, there was an unstated truce and they all wished each other good-night; Balin was very pleased.

“Thanks for … sticking up with me," Thorin said to Bilbo as they were all leaving.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Bilbo said. “They were in the wrong and you were right.”

Thorin smiled. “I don’t normally hear that!”

Bilbo giggled. “Not from your sister, no.”

Thorin laughed. “She’s a tough one, but she’s a good kid.”

“I know,” Bilbo said. “We have some classes together.”

“Oh! Nice.”

They stood there, staring at each other. Thorin felt a weird feeling in him; for some odd reason, he didn’t really want to go home. He couldn’t place it.

“Bilbo!” Ori called. Dwalin looked rather bereft as Ori hurried over towards Thorin and Bilbo. “Are you ready?!”

“Sure.” Bilbo turned to Thorin and held out a hand. “So … I’ll see you next practice?”

Thorin shook Bilbo’s hand. “Ah … yeah. Sure.”

“Great!”

“Great.” Thorin just stood there and it was a minute before he realized, he was still shacking Bilbo’s hand. “Sorry.”

Bilbo nodded. “So .. I’ll see you.”

“Yep.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Bilbo and Ori hurried off, Ori talking low to Bilbo as they walked to Ori’s car. Thorin waved as they pulled away and then turned to find Dwalin and Dis leaning against Dwalin’s car, smirking at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Dis said, almost fluttering her eyes.

“What?!” Thorin was getting annoyed.

“Nothing!” Dis said, smiling. “You just … seemed awfully chummy with Bilbo. That’s all.”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “Please. We were just talking. That’s it.”

“Was it?” Dis asked.

“Yeah! It was!”

“Okay, if you say so.”

“Drop it!”

“Okay.”

“I mean it!”

“Okay!” Dis gave Thorin a kiss on the cheek. “He’s super nice though.”

“Dis!”

“And single.”

“Piss off!”

Dis laughed and joined her friends. They piled into Dis’ car and Dis said something that had the other girls looking back at Thorin and then giggling. Thorin was not amused.

“She’s right you know,” Dwalin said as he opened the doors.

Thorin huffed. “Not you too!”

“He’s a nice guy. You could do worse.”

“We’re just … being friendly! That’s all!”

“Yeah. That’s what I say about Ori too.”


	3. Mistletoe

* * *

“Why does Mum go to all this trouble?” Dwalin asked. “Why doesn’t she just get a fake tree?”

Dwalin and Balin were walking the local Christmas Tree lot. Their mum had entrusted them with finding the ‘perfect’ tree; not too tall – not taller than Dwalin anyway – full, but still enough space between branches so that her ornaments would hand nicely. Also, she wanted real wreaths, two for the front double doors, one of the side door and one for the back door. Dwalin had argued that the back door only looked over the back garden, so why bother; the scathing look his mum gave him answered that question right off. Also, she wanted some extra branches to put on the mantles, over doorways, and, of course, she wanted mistletoe. 

_Had_ to have the mistletoe.

“She likes authenticity,” Balin said. “She loves the smell of the pine and balsam.” He chuckled. “Why do you ask questions when you know the answer?”

Dwalin shrugged. “I just think it’s strange she hasn’t modernized Christmas. Lord knows, she loves the latest modern gadget!” Darla Farinson loved anything new, from her appliances to her telly to her smartphone. “She could get a fake tree and all this crap … they even make fake mistletoe balls for Christ’s sake!”

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Balin said, looking over a particularly lovely tree. “This is nice … what do you think?”

Dwalin shrugged. “It’s nice enough.”

“Well, that won’t do. She wants it perfect.”

Dwalin huffed. “What’s the rush? Why does she want it all … today?!”

Balin moved on to the next tree. “She wants to have it all up by Saturday dinner.”

“Why?! It’s just us.”

“Actually …”

“Well, well … if it isn’t the Vicar and his pet Bulldog.” Balin smiled and Dwalin rolled his eyes and they both turned to greet Nori Ryson. 

“Good evening, Nori,” Balin said.

“Balin.”

“What’s your damage?” Dwalin asked.

“Just working,” Nori said, gesturing to the Tree Lot. “Someone’s got to sell these beauties and spread the cheer.”

“Cheer isn’t normally what you spread,” Dwalin quipped.

“I know what you’d like to spread, Fundinson,” Nori spat out. “And I’m telling you now to keep your pants zipped!”

“What the fuck does _that_ mean?!”

“Now, boys,” Balin said holding up his hands to silence the other two. “This is not the right time or place.”

“When it comes to my baby brother,” Nori said, “it’s always the right time and place.”

Dwalin didn’t care for that remark. “Ori’s no baby, you dick weasel!”

“Look, I’ve got to work Saturday,” Nori threw out. “So, I won’t be at your mum’s little … _soiree_ … I’m telling you now, keep your paws off my brother!”

“No you look, butt crust,” Dwalin growled, “I have no clue—”

“NORI!”

Dwalin and Nori both took a step back, and held their tongue, but continued to stare at each other.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Balin said, finally getting Nori’s attention and handing Nori list of items their mother wanted. “If you could have this tree readied and gather the other things on this paper for us, we’d very much appreciate it.”

Nori took the list and nodded. “Sure Vicar. Dori may have given you up, but for you … anything.”

“Thank you.”

Nori gave Dwalin one more cold, hard glare then walked away.

“What the hell is going on?!” Dwalin demanded of Balin when Nori was out of earshot. “And what did Nori mean about Dori?” Balin and Dori were close, always were. Even after Balin decided to become a Vicar, Dori was supportive as ever. Many thought there was more between them; neither had ever dated a single person. however, when it came to it, neither Balin nor Dori would say. So the idea that they’d had any sort of falling out was near laughable.

Balin drew a breath and sighed. “Dori is not speaking to me, at present.”

“So I gathered! But that doesn’t explain why!”

“He, um …” Balin drew another breath, giving Dwalin and pointed look. “He came to me last week and demanded that I tell you to stay away from Ori.”

Dwalin felt both bad and a little humbled. “You stuck up for me?”

“No,” Balin said. “I merely told him that his real problem wasn’t with you but with the fact that he felt he had to control Ori’s life but that Ori was an adult and that … that he could make his own decisions without a …”

Dwalin was amazed. “A … what?”

Balin closed his eyes. “A mother hen clucking about.”

Dwalin whistled. “I bet that went down like a lead balloon!”

Balin nodded. “As I said … Dori isn’t speaking to me at the moment.”

The silence hung in the air and Dwalin shuffled his feet, his hands in his pockets. He was touched. He really was. He loved his brother and had no doubt that Balin loved him, but this, it really meant something. “Thanks.”

Balin shrugged. “I didn’t do anything. Really.”

“You did,” Dwalin corrected. “More than you—” _Oh, shit!_ Something just hit him. “Wait a second! Nori said he wasn’t coming … on Saturday! And neither was Dori! Does that mean …”

Balin nodded. “Mum invited the entire Ryson clan, but … Dori and Nori aren’t coming so it’s just—”

“Victoria and Ori?!”

Balin gave Dwalin a smile; why confirm was now already known.

“CRAP!”

Dwalin stalked away, not far, but a good enough distance so that Balin would not hear him. He pulled out his phone from his back pocket and dialed a familiar number.

“-Ello,” Thorin said.

“You have to come to dinner on Saturday!” Dwalin hissed into the phone.

“What? Why?”

\-----ooooo-----

Thorin hung up the phone. He wanted to laugh, but Dwalin was in such a panic that he couldn’t, even when he wasn’t on the line to tease.

“Who was that?” Dis was flipping channels on the telly as Thorin came back into the living room.

“Dwalin,” Thorin said, flopping back onto the couch and playing Angry Birds 2 on his phone.

“What did he want?” Dis asked settling on reruns of Ab Fab.

“For me to save him.”

“What?”

Thorin snickered. “Ori’s coming for dinner on Saturday and Dwalin’s in a state.”

Dis gaped. “Oh my, God! Are you going?!”

Thorin shrugged. “Free food, watch Dwalin turn fifty shades of red and make a complete arse of himself? Yeah … I’m going.”

Dis nodded slowly. “That’s nice of you.”

“I guess.”

Dis sat for a minute or two more than excused herself with an excuse of needing the loo. She casually went upstairs to her room and shut the door, then immediately called her aunt.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Aunt Darla.”

“Dis, darling! How are you? Is … is everything all right?”

“Oh … yes! Fine! Uni is tough, but … nothing I can’t handle.”

“I’m sure!”

“I just called because it’s been, um … ages and we haven’t chatted …”

“How sweet!”

Dis felt a little guilty but, she had little choice. “I thought maybe we could have lunch or … _dinner_ … sometime.”

“Well, funny you should mention it …”

_Yeah, funny._

“… I’m having a little get together on Saturday.”

“Oh yes … now I remember. I want to say Dwalin invited Thorin to come.”

“Did he?” Darla sounded very confused for a second and then laughed. “I probably forgot. You should come too dear!”

Dis smiled. “I’d love to …” then she dropped the bomb. “Oh, but … I have a friend I promised to see that night. He’s alone, see, and—”

“Oh! Well, bring him if you’d like.”

“You don’t mind? I mean … he’s a good friend of Thorin’s too and—”

“Well, that’s settled then! I insist you invite him too!”

“Thanks, Aunt Darla.”

Dis hung up, dreams and plans of mistletoe hatching in her head, and immediately sent a text to Bilbo.

_Got plans for Saturday night?_


	4. Fireplace

* * *

After getting the tree and wreaths and garland – not to mention the mistletoe – back their mum’s house, Dwalin and Balin started the set up. Dwalin cut the base of the tree while Balin hung the wreaths on the door. Together they got the tree in the stand and centered, added water, and then left it to open fully.

By the next day, noon, Darla had put up the garland, hung the mistletoe, retrieved all the ornaments, and finished decorating the tree. She had played Christmas music, Balin was sure as that was her usual, and somehow managed during the whole process to make dinner. Dwalin came home from work to clean up for his mother and then Balin dropped by that evening to enjoy the fruits of their labors.

Dwalin had even lit the fireplace so that the evening had a warm, comforting feel. Balin settled in one of the oversized armchairs set in front of the hearth, Dwalin sat in the matching one across from his brother.

Balin loved this time of year. Not just because it was Christmas and he was a Vicar, but the weather and the glittering snow, the crispness of the air mixed with the warm layers of clothes, the silver of the sky and the gentle nights. Balin loved winter.

So had Dori.

Balin would be foolish if he even tried to say he didn’t miss Dori very deeply, and he felt it even more now, sitting by the fire, the quiet of the night, the smell of pine in the air, but no friend, no dear friend, to add to the moment. Even when Dori would sit with him and they spoke not a word, the silence between them was comforting and peaceful; they had no need for words to bring them joy.

“Here we go,” Darla said, coming in from the kitchen, carrying a small tray, “One homemade hot cocoa, for my sweet boy.” She handed Balin a large mug of hot chocolate.

“Thank you,” Balin said.

“One hot Toddy, made with Aberlour, for my baby,” Darla cooed as she handed Dwalin his drink.

Dwalin chucked. “I’m a grown man, Mum … but thank you.”

Darla sat down on the arm of Dwalin’s chair. “And one Brandy Alexander for me.” She took a sip and then leaned over and kissed Dwalin’s shaved head. “You will always be my baby.”

Balin smiled. “Give it up. No matter how old you or she is, she will always see you as her baby.”

Dwalin rolled his eyes but he smiled. “A baby with a full beard and bald head.”

Darla shrugged. 

Balin took a sip of the rich, dark cocoa; truly heaven. But he sighed. He loved his family but it wasn’t the same without Dori. And they knew it.

“Have you spoken with …” Dwalin started.

“No.” Balin said. 

“Why ever not?” Darla asked.

“It’s a …” Balin drew a calming breath, a log popped in the fire. “A long story.”

“You’re foolish if you think I don’t know,” Darla said.

Yes, Balin had to agree with that statement. Of course his mother would know. She was best friends with Victoria Ryson, and their sons had been best friends since childhood; even Nori and Dwalin had been besties until their teens and then something happened to drive them apart. But none of that meant his mother actually _knew the particulars._

“It’s not that easy, mother,” Balin said.

“Life never is,” Darla said.

“Please don’t let me be the cause of your unhappiness,” Dwalin said softly.

Balin smiled. “It wasn’t about you.”

“Balin’s right,” Darla said. “Nor is it about Ori.”

Dwalin almost spat out his drink; _so his mum did know._

“Regardless of the supposed reason,” Darla continued. “This is about you and the one you love.”

“Mother,” Balin’s cheeks warmed. “I’m a vicar! Dori and I …”

“Gay vicars can marry now!” Dwalin said.

“Civil partnerships,” Balin corrected. “But you are jumping the gun and frankly—” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Darla said, commanding the floor. “Regardless of the nature of your relationship, there is no denying that you each love the other.”

Balin couldn’t argue that either.

“As such, this … breach is painful for you both, I’m sure. I think it’s high time you called Dori and settled that matter.”

“But, what I said—”

“You used the wrong words. That’s all. Tell him that. Tell him. He will understand.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then use your gifts and _help him_ to understand. The Lord knows, no one can open the mind and heart like you can.”

Balin took a drink of his cocoa and stared into the fire. They weren’t comforting, they weren’t the same, they lacked something, or so it seemed, but he knew, it was he that lacked something, _someone_ , and he knew his mother was right.

Balin set his mug down and exited the room. He didn’t excuse himself but then they all knew where he was going. In the back guestroom there was a phone and he dialed a familiar number.

“Hello,” Dori answered.

“Good evening, Dori.”

“Balin.”

With a quick breath in, Balin said, “I, um … I wanted to say that … that I’m very sorry.”

There was silence for a few long moments then Dori said softly, “I’m so sorry too.”

“I shouldn’t have said …”

“It’s all right.”

“No. I should have said it differently. I shouldn’t have been so harsh.”

“But you still would have been _right_.” Dori took a shaky breath but when he spoke he was calmer and sounded better. “Mum gave me a real whacking over it all.”

Balin couldn’t help but chuckle. “Did she?”

“Oh, yes! Told me I was being a complete arse and that I should be lucky you were so nice about it because in her opinion, and I quote …” Dori then did a spot on impression of his mother, _“I would have told you to get your fat arse off the nest because Ori’s egg hatched long ago!”_

Balin couldn’t help but laugh at both Dori’s impression and Victoria’s comment. “She was never one to mince words.”

“No, she was not!” Dori laughed as well. “She also said that it would deserve me right if you never spoke to me again and …” Dori grew quiet. “And disowned me forever.”

“That will never happen.” The idea made Balin sick.

There was silence again for a minute then Dori said, “I miss you.”

“Will you come to dinner then on Saturday?”

“No.”

“No?” Balin felt disappointment.

“I think … its best that I give Ori … and Dwalin … their space.”

Balin was very proud of Dori. “Then maybe we could have dinner together.”

“Oh, no! I don’t want to take you away from—”

“Please.” Balin knew Darla would understand. “And then maybe we could … spend the evening playing chess or …”

“Sitting by the fire.”

Balin smiled. “Yes. That would be perfect.”


	5. Icicles

* * *

“Make sure they hang right,” Freya Durin said, looking concerned, watching Thorin up on a ladder, hanging Christmas lights on the front of the house.

But this was not Thorin’s ‘first rodeo’ as the Americans said. “I know, Mum.”

“I want it to look nice,” Freya insisted.

“I’ve got this,” Thorin said.

“Are you sure?”

Thorin fought his eye-roll. “I’ve done it for the last … what … five or … six years?”

Freya stood there, watching her eldest son hang the house lights for a few more long seconds before sighing. “Well … if you’re sure.”

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

Freya gave the front of the house one last, furtive look and then went back inside to finish the interior decorating.

Thorin relaxed now his mother was gone. He loved her dearly, but boy did she love to hover. And as he said, he had this! He’d done it since he was in his late teens. And he knew how she liked the lights done, and he always made sure they hung right; Freya loved those ‘icicle lights.’ Thorin had to admit they did look nice and when icicles did form, they often formed around the lights, making the effect even more festive. Thorin liked them too.

Just didn’t like his mother hovering!

“Whatcha you doing, slick?”

Thorin didn’t hold back his eye-roll. “What’s it look like, twit!”

Dis smirked. “Don’t be snarky, darling.”

“Where are you off to?” Thorin asked stretching the string of icicle lights.

“I have plans.”

“It’s still light out. Shouldn’t you still be in your coffin?” Dis only ever seemed to come alive after the sun went down. 

Dis laughed. “I’m a day-walker, so … I can feed at any time!”

“Poor sods.”

“He doesn’t think so.”

“What?!” Thorin nearly fell off the ladder. “Who are you hanging with?!”

“Just friends.”

Thorin wasn’t sure if Dis was being funny, being truthful, or deflecting. “Who are you …”

“I have to go get ready.” Dis turned and headed back into the house. “Be nice!”

Thorin was confused. “Be nice to whom?”

Sometimes Dis was so opaque but at the same time she loved knowing things that others didn’t and that was what truly worried him. God only knew what she was thinking and planning half the time and that, more than nuclear war or asteroid extinction, was what worried him. She was convinced that she knew what everyone needed more than they did! Sneaky plotter! And she was always where you never wanted her to be and not anywhere was you needed her to be!

Totally drove him insane!

“Hello!”

Thorin’s foot slipped and he nearly fell off the ladder, which was quickly grabbed and steadied by the newcomer. “Bilbo!”

“I’m so sorry!” Bilbo was wide-eyed and gaped mouthed. “I didn’t mean to startle you!”

“Oh … no!” Thorin cleared his throat and tried to regain an air of masculine composure. “It was, um … the ladder. This rung is, um … dodgy.” Thorin nodded. “Very dodgy.”

“Still …” Bilbo shrugged, clearly upset. “I should probably have spoken up several feet away, rather than .. practically on top of you.”

Thorin cheeks reddened at the obvious unintended innuendo. “Nah, it … it was my fault.” He smiled and was glad when Bilbo looked up and smiled as well. “So, um …” Thorin smiled, trying to go for casual. “What brings you here?”

“Dis wanted to go shopping,” Bilbo said. “She has a party or other to go to Saturday and wanted to get something nice to wear.”

Thorin chuckled. “Watch it, or she’ll have you carrying all her bags before she’s done!” Lord knows, he’d been there many times with his sister.

Bilbo smiled. “She invited me to go with her to the party, so … I don’t mind.”

“Well, I hope you both have fun.” Thorin kept his smile intact, but there was a tiny little part of him that was, for some odd reason, jealous of Dis spending time with Bilbo.

“Thanks.”

“Hey, fluff-muffin!” DIs called out as she came out of the house.

Bilbo laughed. “Hey.”

Dis looked at Bilbo and then up at Thorin, raised an eyebrow and smiled, before looking back at Bilbo. “I see you have a firm grip on Thorin.”

Thorin groaned internally.

“Oh, I, um …” Bilbo sniffed. “Almost made him fall, so I quickly—”

“Grabbed him.”

“—held the ladder steady.”

Dis looked back at Thorin with a barely concealed smirk, while Thorin returned Dis’ look with a heated glare.

Dis didn’t care. “How sweet.”

Their mum was going to be so mad because Thorin felt sure he was going to kill his sister!

“Ready to go?” Dis asked Bilbo, putting on her gloves.

“But …” Bilbo was unsure. “What about the others?”

“We’re meeting them at Merida’s house.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Bye, Thorin,” Dis said in a sing-songy voice.”

“Good-bye,” Thorin said, trying hard to keep the growl out of his voice.

“Bye, Thorin,” Bilbo said, giving Thorin a small smile and wave.

Thorin smiled genuinely. “See ya around, Bilbo.”

“Yeah,” Dis said, hooking arms with Bilbo and dragging him away. “You never knew when you might run into each other.”

Thorin hung his head; he really hated his sister sometimes.

He went back to work stringing the icicle lights. It was tedious but easy going, so naturally, his mind drifted. He wondered what it would be like to kiss someone in the evening, on the porch, with the twinkling lights and sparkling icicles reflected in their eyes.

He bet Bilbo’s eyes would look beautiful like that.


	6. Icy Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I'd already covered 'decorating' so ... I choose one of the 'joker' prompts for this one.)

* * *

As Thorin pulled to a stop and shut the engine off, he gave Bilbo a smile and they got out. Thorin grabbed the old, heavy flannel blanket in the backseat; something told him to bring it. They climbed up on the warm hood of the old Rover and sat side by side, each looking up at the clear, starry night.

“You’re sure it’s okay to be here?” Thorin asked, not really that concerned.

Bilbo nodded. “Farmer Maggot gets a bad rap but he’s a good guy, really. He won’t mind.”

“Those dogs of his might!”

Bilbo giggled. “Those dogs will most likely push you down and drown you in slobber as they lick you face all over!” 

Thorin sighed and marveled; how did he get so lucky?

He hadn’t thought it started that way.

\-----ooooo-----

Dwalin had called in a panic and demanded that Thorin come over early! Like, right now! So, Thorin had dressed quickly, kissed his mum good-bye, revved up his Dad’s old Rover – well, his Rover now – and headed over to the Fundinson house. He walked in, greeted his aunt, and then made his way up to Dwalin’s room, knocking to announce his arrival.

“Unless your name is Thorin … go away!”

“I am named Thorin, but I can still go away.”

Dwalin’s door ripped open and the man himself stood there, wearing nothing but jeans. “About time!”

“Dinner’s not for a fucking hour!” Thorin was pulled into the room, and Dwalin slammed the door. “What’s your problem?”

“I don’t know what to _fucking_ wear!”

Thorin grinned; it was too funny. “Seriously? That’s your major problem?!”

“Just shut and help me!” Dwalin grabbed some clothes off the bed and held them up. “Which do you think?”

Choice one was an ugly, red and green plaid shirt, while choice two was old retro concert shirt for the Sex Pistols. 

“That’s it?” Thorin said. “Those are my only choices?”

Dwalin growled and threw both shirts on his bed. “Then help me!”

Thorin sighed and shook his head, standing to rummage through Dwalin’s closet. “I don’t know why you are even bothering. It’s a regular family dinner and you could come down half naked and Ori wouldn’t give a rat’s arse.” Thorin chuckled. “In fact, he’d probably like that.”

“Just … shut and find me something!” Dwalin said, flopping on the bed. “And what about shoes? Or are boots better?”

“You’re at home, socks are fine.” Thorin gave Dwalin’s feet a look; just as he suspected. “But ones without holes.”

Dwalin huffed and got up to change his socks.

“How about this?” Thorin pulled out one of Dwalin’s dad’s old hand-me-down police sweaters. 

Dwalin rolled his eyes. “I’m not wearing black! It’s a supposed to be a festive evening!”

Thorin shrugged and pulled out an olive green military sweater, also another of Fundin’s old military issued. “Here. This one is green.”

“What the fuck is it with you and the sweaters?!”

“Because it’s gonna be balls cold tonight, all your shirts are either concert tees, covered with inappropriate sayings, or so ugly a blind man would reject them! This sweater is still in good shape, worn and comfort and besides … Ori likes you in it.”

Dwalin stopped for that. “He does?!”

Thorin nodded. “Dies once told me that Ori made some comments … seems to think they flatter your, um … physique.”

Dwalin grabbed the old Woolly-Pully, whipped on a clean undershirt then pulled the jumper on, straightening it out over his torso. “This okay?”

“Yeah.” Thorin had to admit, Ori was right.

“Good.” But then Dwalin went a little slacked jawed. “But … you’re wearing the same thing!”

“Not really.” Thorin was indeed wearing one his dad’s old military sweaters, but Thrain had been in the RAF and so Thorin’s was a rich blue and had a V-neck where Dwalin’s was a deep Olive green and had a crew neck. “Besides … Ori is only going to have eyes for you, and it’s only going to be us and your mums so … who cares?”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“I mean, no … it’s not just us. Dis is coming too. And she is bringing some friend.”

“Dis is coming? But she never …” Then some things Bilbo had said the day before blossomed up from Thorin’s memory … _She has a party or other to go to Saturday_ … _She invited me to go with her_. “SHIT!”

“What?! What’s wrong?!”

“I gotta go,” Thorin said, reaching for the door handle.

“Go?! You can’t go … you just got here?!”

“I’ll be back!” Thorin could not be seen in this … tatty old sweater while Bilbo was probably going to be wearing something smart and cute and all together much nicer!

Throwing the door open, Thorin was halfway down the stair when the doorbell rang. He froze, half on one step, half on another, and internally prayed that it wasn’t Dis and Bilbo, that it was Victoria Ryson and Ori. That would be a saving grace; Thorin could slip out quickly, drive home, change into … anything other than what he was wearing … and race back. Sure, he’d arrive back probably just in time for dinner, but better that –

“Dis!” Darla cried as she opened the door.

Thorin was screwed.

“Hello, Aunt Darla!” Dis said, coming in and giving her aunt a hug. She was dressed in a long, mid-calf red dress, a long cable-knit, black cardigan, open, nearly as long as the dress, and high black boots. Her Raven-colored hair was pulled back into one long braid that hung nearly to her waist. As if sensing him, Dis slid her eyes over to Thorin and said with a shit-eating grin, “Hello, brother-dear.”

Yep, Thorin was going to murder his sister.

“Oh, Aunt Darla!” Dis said, pulling back. “May I introduce a good friend of mine, Bilbo Baggins!”

“Hello, Missus Farinson,” Bilbo said, stepping into the room.

Thorin’s heart skipped a beat. Bilbo wore a burgundy-colored cardigan over a soft sage-green button down shirt, a dark green bowtie, perfectly creased chinos and rich brown, saddle shoes. _Yep,_ Thorin thought. _Adorable._

“Lovely to meet you, Bilbo!” Darla shook Bilbo’s hand. “But … why aren’t you two wearing coats?!” They each had one, but carried them.

“It was just a quick jaunt into the house,” Dis said with a shrug. “I’ll hang them up for later though.” She reached for Bilbo’s coat, telling him, “Look who’s here, Bilbo.”

Bilbo turned and saw Thorin on the stairs, his eyes getting a bit larger. “Oh! Hello!”

Thorin stood straight, nodding, trying very hard to look cool. “Hiya.”

“Dis didn’t tell me you were coming tonight!”

“Didn’t she.” Thorin gave his sister a quick glance as she smirked behind Bilbo. “Must have slipped her mind.” Bilbo’s smile seemed to slip just a tad and Thorin rushed to say, “Not that it isn’t … you know … nice to see you again!”

Bilbo’s smile returned. “Yes! You too! Absolutely!”

“It’s always nice when _friends_ get together,” Dis said quietly.

Thorin resisted the urge to glare at Dis, least Bilbo see. But he was saved as the front bell rang.

“I’LL GET IT!” Dis called out, whipping the door open before anyone could protest. “Ori!”

“Hello,” Ori said, smiling, as he came through the front door.

“Where’s your mum?” Dis asked.

“She had to work,” Darla answered as she came to the front and greeted Ori. “Apparently,” Darla added. “The evening supervisor had a little … issue.”

“Issue?” Bilbo said, curious.

Ori giggled and nodded. “She went into labor.”

“Talk about small issue,” Dis said dryly.

Darla laughed. “Tori naturally agreed to take over … she called earlier and told me. I think we can all forgive her.” She gave Ori a wink and took his coat, asking Dis to hang it with the others in the hall closet. “Everyone is here now, so … let’s get the party started!”

Darla walked away and Dis went to follow, throwing her arms around Bilbo and Ori. “Come you two, let’s get the bookends into the dining room!”

“Bookends?” Bilbo asked.

“What do you mean?” Ori added.

Dis shrugged. “Well, they look exactly alike!”

Thorin and Dwalin exchanged a quick look, but Ori and Bilbo stopped and said, in unison, “No they don’t!”

Dis gave her friends a surprised look. “Don’t they?! They are wearing the same thing!”

Bilbo and Ori both shook their heads. 

“Dwalin’s jeans are faded and loose fitting.”

“Thorin’s jeans a dark and upturned.” 

“Dwalin’s sweater is older and softer”

“Thorin’s is almost pristine.”

“Dwalin’s has a crew neck.”

“Thorin’s has a v-neck.”

“And Dwalin’s sweater is Olive.”

“Exactly! While Thorin’s is Navy and goes beautifully with his eyes!” Suddenly realizing what he said, Bilbo turned a deep shade of red, right to his ear tips. “So, um … let’s go eat.” Bilbo quickly walked to dining room with Ori hot on his tail.

Dis turned to her brother and cousin, both of which were standing gobsmacked. “It seems you two have been well observed already.”

Dwalin growled a little. “Leave Ori alone.” He stalked off towards the dining room.

Dis shook her head. “Those two are already so far gone.”

“Why are you doing this?” Thorin whispered harshly. “ Bilbo is a nice person, stop teasing him!”

Dis looked at brother and her express became that rarely seen serious sincerity that few thought Dis capable of. “I’m not teasing him. Nor you.”

“Aren’t you?”

Dis shook her head. “He is a nice person … a great guy to be honest … and I adore him. I want him to be happy.”

Thorin felt badly. Of course Dis wouldn’t hurt a friend; Dis would die for those she cared for.

“And for your information,” Dis said, moving closer to her brother. “I’d like you to be happy as well. You’re my big brother …” Dis stretched a bit and kissed Thorin on the cheek. “I love you, you big numpty.”

_Yeah, okay._ “But … I don’t know him!”

“So … _talk … to … him_!”

With a deep breath in and resolve, Thorin did just that. 

Dinner turned out to be a wonderful place to chat and loosen up; Thorin felt far less pressure not being the centre of attention, yet Bilbo seemed to make a point to draw Thorin into whatever subject he was talking about. They laughed and joked, teased each other, told stories of their Christmases past, and really enjoyed each other’s company. 

Thorin came to realize that he and Bilbo had far more in common than one suspected. Both were first-borns, they each lost their father and were thus a little more devoted to their mother, they both loved history, each could be stubborn but not uncompromising, and by the end of it, both were comfortable in each other’s company!

But Thorin wondered, or feared if he was honest with himself, was he the only one falling quickly?

“Thank you for a lovely evening,” Bilbo said to Darla as everyone was getting ready to leave.

“It was my pleasure,” Darla said smiling. Aunt Darla loved having ‘the kids’ over and enjoyed the talk; she always wanted a slew of children but was unable. “It’s wonderful having you all over!”

“Are you sure we can’t help you clean up?” Ori asked.

“Nonsense!” Darla insisted. “You were guests!”

“Well, I’m staying to help,” Dis said.

“There’s no need,” Darla stated.

“No … I want to,” Dis replied. “And … I was hoping to chat with you. Alone.”

“Girl stuff,” Dwalin said with an eye-roll.

“Then maybe she should talk to you,” Darla teased. Everyone laughed and although Dwalin pretended to be offended, he wasn’t.

“But …” something dawned on Thorin and he turned to Dis. “Didn’t you bring Bilbo?” 

Dis nodded. “Surely … _one of you_ … could be kind enough to take him home.”

Before Thorin would even react, Ori said, “I can take him home!”

_Shit!_ Thorin had total control of his expression but he wanted to glare Ori into the carpet at that moment.

“Oh, no!” Bilbo said. “We live on opposite sides of town?! I can get the bus I’m sure!”

“You just missed them,” Dwalin said, pointing at the clock. “It’s almost nine-thirty.”

“Well …”

“Dwalin and I can take you then!” Ori offered, looking at Dwalin with such sweetness.

However, Thorin doubted seriously that Dwalin wanted to be alone with Ori and Bilbo! However, Dwalin would not deny Ori a thing and said, “Sure.” Thorin almost laughed because he could almost hear Dwalin swearing inside his head!

“I’ll take you,” Thorin said.

“I’d …” Bilbo turned a little pink. “I’d hate to … impose, or—”

“ _I … will take … you home_.” Thorin was not going to hear another word about it. Dis could bail; he didn’t care. Dwalin could have Ori to himself and Ori would feel that Bilbo was safe. It was a win-win all the way around. Besides, Thorin didn’t want his evening with Bilbo to end so soon.

As soon as they were buckled in, Thorin cranked up the heat.

“Sorry about the mess,” Thorin said, pulling away out of the drive. He really needed to clean the Rover up, it was way beyond ‘lived-in.’

“No need to apologize,” Bilbo said. 

Thorin felt he should. Bilbo was the only pristine thing in the old thing. “This used to be my Dad’s, and … well, it’s only ever been a … utilitarian sort of vehicle.”

“It’s fine. I’m guessing he got this from the military as well, since you mentioned your sweater was one of his too.”

Thorin nodded. “He bought as surplus.” His father had loved the 1980 Land Rover Defender 110, as was quick to snag it when it went for sale. “Mum hated it but she learned to love it the fact that it drove like a tank and she could pile all of us in here with our gear and crap. When my dad …”

Thorin didn’t really want to talk about his dad. It was hard for them all really. 

But Bilbo understood. “I’m sure you feel close to him when you drive it.”

Thorin nodded. 

It was forecasted to be a rather icy night; Thorin could almost feel the temperature dropping, so he drove carefully. He honestly wasn’t driving overly slow. They rode in silence and Thorin began to worry that maybe Bilbo was getting bored or that he had ruined the night his slightly mawkish turn. 

But Bilbo leaned forward and said, “The stars are so beautiful out tonight.”

“Yeah, they are.” The chilly air was crisp and clear and it was a nice night for watching.

“You, um …” Bilbo cleared his throat.

“What?”

“Well … you don’t … think … I might be able to persuade you into … making a stop somewhere?”

Bilbo could probably persuade Thorin to rob a bank. “What do you have in mind.”

Bilbo turned his seat, excited. “There is a great place on the way to my house that we can just pull off and stargaze!”

“Sure!” Anything to extend their time.

And that was how they ended up in Farmer Maggot’s field, parked, sitting on the hood of Thorin’s old Rover, staring up at the night sky.

“It really is beautiful,” Bilbo said quietly.

Thorin turned, Bilbo’s face was turned to the heavens, his cheeks rosy from the cold, and the starlight sparkling in his eyes. “Yes … beautiful” Nothing could compare to the beauty sitting next to him.

Bilbo shivered. “It is a bit cold.”

Thorin instantly had the old blanket unfolded and wrapped around Bilbo’s shoulders. “Better?”

Bilbo nodded. “But … aren’t you cold?”

Thorin shrugged. “I’m fine.”

Bilbo gave him a disbelieving look.

“I’m fine! Really!”

“Thorin …” Bilbo pulled the blanket to one side. “I’m offering to share it.”

Thorin wanted to protest and then … then came the dawn. “Oh. If … if you want.”

Bilbo smiled. “Do you?”

Thorin pulled Bilbo closer and then wrapped the blanket around them both. Bilbo shook his head and chuckled.

“I’m still a little cold,” Bilbo said.

Thorin wondered what Bilbo was meaning … and then Bilbo slipped an arm around Thorin’s waist. Yeah, Thorin was idiot; he got the hint. Thorin moved an arm around Bilbo’s shoulders and soon they were snuggled under the blanket.

“That’s better,” Bilbo said, resting his head on Thorin’s shoulder.

Thorin was almost lightheaded. “Much better.”


	7. Ice Skating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another 'joker' prompt ... but I hope you can forgive me ...

* * *

“Won’t you at least try?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Not even for me?”

“Not even if God himself ordered me.”

Ori sighed. “Why not? It’ll be great!”

Dwalin’s expression was not one of amusement. “I’ll be laughed off the rink!”

Ori watched the ice skaters wistfully. “I would never laugh at you.”

Dwalin’s resolve was cracking; he could feel it. “That’s not the point.” He’d never been ice skating in his life. Not once! And all he could do was picture himself, flailing about like a human windmill, wide-eyed and blundering, looking ridiculous, while everyone within eyesight laughed and pointed at him as he eventually ended up on his arse. He could handle that. He didn’t care. But looking like a buffoon in front of Ori, looking ridiculous and … _weak_ … in front of Ori was just _not_ going to happen! “You can go if you want. You don’t need me to have fun.”

Ori turned his soft, brown eyes to Dwalin. “I won’t have any fun if you aren’t with me.”

That did it.

Dwalin nodded. “Okay.”

Ori was thrilled while Dwalin, not necessarily regretting his decision, took a deep breath and steeled his resolve; if he was going to do this, he was going to do the best he could. And if he looked a fool? Well … screw everyone, he was doing it for Ori and that was good enough for him. 

They got their skates and Dwalin felt a little easier once he had them on; he’d worn military boots loads of times and the skates really weren’t that different. He felt totally self conscience having to take dainty little steps onto the ice, but as Ori said, no one was watching him and he wasn’t really standing out from the few other guys that were also doing this for their sweeties. Ori coached him through the basics and while he was no Olympian champ, he wasn’t the blundering bull-elephant he feared either. In no time they making slow but steady progress around the rink and Dwalin finally relaxed and realized that being with Ori, laughing, and enjoying themselves was indeed fun!

That’s when he got a little too over confident.

They were moving at a good clip, Dwalin no longer thinking he needed to hang onto Ori for support, when he took a ‘too-wide’ stride causing one ankle buckle and – just he predicted – found himself arm-flailing, wind-milling, expletive-spewing into a heap on the side of the rink and landing square on his arse.

_Bloody Graceful Fundinson!_

“Are you okay?!” “Are you hurt?!” “You poor thing!”

Dwalin looked up and found he was surrounded by a gaggle of young girls, all dressed in fluffy, bright-colored, matching winter finery – one was in pink, one was in red, one was in blue, etc – and all of them were huddled over him, hands clasped, with worried faces and big cow eyes.

He was actually a little frightened at the sight!

“Okay! Okay!” Ori said, pushing his way through the girl-gang. “He’s perfectly fine!”

“You don’t know that!” One girl said, indignantly, while her friends nodded their agreement and closed ranks.

“Well, I will take care of him if he isn’t!” Ori snapped, giving the leader a narrowed glare.

“And who are you to—”

“I’m his _boyfriend_!” Ori growled. “So … back off!”

“Well!” The girl huffed and moved off with her friends. “So rude!” One of them whispered loudly. “That sweet bear doesn’t deserve such a nasty little … _otter_ … for a partner!” Another pouted.

Ori glared at the back of the girls until they were a good way off. “Are you all right?” Ori asked, finally turning and helping Dwalin up.

Dwalin nodded; he was a little stunned.

“Are you sure?” Ori was getting concerned.

Dwalin nodded again, looking at Ori and blinking.

“What’s wrong then? Why aren’t you saying—”

“ _Boyfriend_?”

Ori turned a deep shade of pink. “Well, I … I mean—”

Dwalin grabbed the front of Ori’s coat and pulled him into a searing kiss that had Ori melting and Dwalin feeling like he was twenty metres tall. Dwalin pulled back, sighed, but did not let go of Ori, only rested their foreheads together, sharing the air between them. “ _My_ boyfriend,” he whispered, huskily.

Ori smiled. “Yes.”


End file.
